


Seventeen Reasons Why

by WallyWillyWalter



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fill, Vegas Wedding, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 10:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8158160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallyWillyWalter/pseuds/WallyWillyWalter
Summary: “There are at least seventeen ways this could've gone better. Literally. I’m counting them right now you moron. One-” Bucky ticks his finger.....





	

“There are at least seventeen ways this could've gone better. Literally. I’m counting them right now you moron. One-” Bucky ticks his finger, “I love you for the way you make me feel when I am with you. Two-” Steve shoves his hands in his pockets, his face flushing from the sympathetic look the priest hanging out the window is giving them. “I love your eyes. Three- I love your smile.” The priest motions for Steve to come closer, practically crawling out the window now. “In his defense,” the priest whispers, “it was a really stupid thing to say you loved.” Steve glares at him, sending him just slightly back into the window. 

But only slightly. Not every day you get to marry a pair of Captain Americas in your drive through. 

“Four!” Bucky keeps ticking off his fingers, his hair blowing slightly in the wind. Maybe it makes him a sap, but Steve’s always loved it when Bucky gets riled up like this. And, normally, these fits of countdowns are always directed at him. 

Let’s face it, he had never really been a smooth talker. No matter what decade it was. When Bucky had suggested they get married, he had been all for it. Never once did it cross his mind on the short drive from their hotel to the closest chapel they could find, that he should be thinking of vows. He panicked, blurting out the first thing he could think of when Elvis has asked him what his vows were. I love the way your ass looks in the morning, even though it was true, really wasn’t a good wedding vow. 

“I love your warmth and kindness!” 

“Bucky,” Steve reaches for him, laughing. “Really? You? Warmth and kindness?” 

“Shut up! Don’t laugh! This is serious and I’m not done yet! Five- I love the way your support my ideas! Six- I love the way we..” 

“Complete each other's sentences?” This has gone on long enough, and after all. It’s their wedding day. Maybe now is the perfect time to tell Bucky exactly what he does love about him. The priest at the window may or may not have taken a picture of Bucky scowling. Steve running his fingers up and down his arms. 

“Seven,” Steve continues, “I love the fact that you want to be with me. Eight- I love how even when you’re away on missions, I still feel you right here.” He grabs Bucky’s hand, sliding it over his heart. 

The priest practically squeals. 

He runs his hand up Bucky’s neck, curving his fingers through his hair. “Nine. I love the way you take the time to show me how you love me. Sweet and slow.” Bucky hums, leaning into his touch, the fire in his eyes melting into a different kind of flame. He presses a quick kiss to Steve's lips. “Or hot and fast. Or lazy and needing. I love it all.”

There’s another camera shutter from the drive-through window. 

“Ten. I love that you're ticklish.” And now he really does pull him close, Bucky practically sitting in his lap, the horn from the loaner Tony had given them blaring loudly into the night. “I love that you're ticklish here.” Steve bites his ear. “And here.” He runs his lips down his throat, Bucky squirming in his lap. “And here,” he whispers, sucking the spot where metal meets flesh. If the horn blares a little louder as Bucky leans on it, well, no one comments on it. 

“Eleven,” Steve tells him, more sincere than he’s ever been. “ I love our life together. Twelve. I love how I know you’ll always be there for me when I need you. Thirteen. I love how I know you’ll always be there for me when I’m pretending I don’t.” 

They’ve attracted a small crowd now. People crossing the street and standing by the drive-through. Someone's recording them. Good. He should be able to find it on youtube later. Better than paying a videographer to tape their wedding. 

“Steve.” 

“Wait. I got to get to seventeen. Fourteen. I love that I’m the first voice you hear when you wake up. Fifteen. I love that we always find each other. No matter what.” If they both get a little choked up, no ones commenting on it. If anyone deserves to get a little teary at their wedding, it’s them. The fact that they can even do this. “Sixteen. I love that you want to marry me, even though I’m kinda an idiot.” 

Another shutter from the window. He’s going to have to get the priest to send him copies of those. Together, the two of them in the driver's seat surrounded by the strangers of Vegas and a loaner car from Tony. “Seventeen.” Steve’s whispering now. These words are just for Bucky. Not the crowd. Not the priest. “Seventeen. I love you because you’re you. No one else. Just you. I love you.” 

“I love you.” 

They kiss. The crowd cheers. The priest takes more pictures. 

“Hey.” Bucky’s voice is rough, full of promise for what Steve is hoping comes after this. “Let’s get to the I do’s, yeah?” 

Hanging out the video, the priest startles. “Oh! Yes! Yes. Do you, James Barnes, take Steven Rogers to be your wedded husband? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health, remaining faithful to him as long as you both shall live?” 

“You better believe it.” 

“And do you, Steve Rogers, take James Barnes to be your wedded husband? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health, remaining faithful to him as long as you both shall live?” 

“I do. Yes. Absolutely.” 

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you Mr. and Mr., erm...I’m sorry. What are you going to go by?” 

Steve answers Barnes. Bucky answers Rogers. The crowded around the car laughs. “How about,” the priest supplies, “I now pronounce you Mr. and Mr. Barnes-Rogers.” 

Steve quirks a brow. This okay? Bucky nods, answering in the silent way they communicate. Steve Barnes-Rogers. Okay. Bucky motions for the priest to continue. If he grinds into Steve’s lap, well, there might have actually been some hoots this time. 

“It is my great pleasure! And by the power vested in me from the great state of Nevada! I now pronounce you man and man! Mr. and Mr. Barnes-Rogers! You make now kiss the groom!” 

And kiss they do. The noise around them drowns out, the horn blaring at Steve leans up, Bucky leaning back on it once more. The certificate is signed, the pictures are promised to be emailed to the official Avengers email. They drive off, two free bottles of champagne and the crowd cheering, two gold bands on each their hands. 

 

When they wake up in the morning, they’re trending on Twitter. Fox News has declared them traitors to their country. They each have about fifty missed calls. And their wedding video has over a million hits on Youtube. 

“Eighteen.” Steve starts, running his hands over his husband’s body, lying next to him in their room. “I love the way your ass looks in the morning.” 

If Bucky laughs. Well. He doesn’t laugh for long.


End file.
